


The Magic of Christmas

by sir_kingsley



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Castiel, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Top Dean Winchester, Witch Castiel, Witch Gabriel (Supernatural), witch anna milton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-27 17:59:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17166647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir_kingsley/pseuds/sir_kingsley
Summary: Castiel Novak is finally getting the Christmas he's always wanted: lights, snowmen, tree, and — with a little bravery and some magic — maybe even the love of his life.Based on the short novel "Charlotte's Web" by Erin McCarthy





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to casandtheimpala on Tumblr! I know it's not quite what you requested, Hope, but I hope it makes you smile all the same! Happy holidays, everyone! I'll update soon!

“What the hell!”

Cas pulls his eyes away from the ass swinging in front of his face and frowns up at his best friend. “Are you okay?”

Dean shakes his head, hands clinging to the edge of the roof where he’s stringing Christmas lights. “Who grabbed my ass?”

The question raises a brow and pulls Cas’s gaze temporarily back down to the very ass he’d just been ogling. He clears his throat. “Uh, what?”

“I felt someone grab my ass just now,” Dean says, his eyes darting around suspiciously.

“There’s no one here but me, Dean, and I can promise I did not grope you.”

“‘Course not.”

Cas hears the little grumble and can’t help the surge of offense. _What was that supposed to mean?_ That Dean thought Cas too spineless to commit a little groping? Too scared to reach out and take what he wants? Because if that were the case, Dean Winchester would be completely and utterly… correct.

“Was it Gabriel?” Dean asks, trying to turn enough on the ladder so he can see behind him. 

The ladder wobbles and Cas reaches out with his arms burdened by the last few strands of lights to stabilize it. “Gabriel left with Anna almost two hours. Now will you please be careful and hurry up so we can go inside?”

Dean’s eyes scan the expanse of the snow-covered lawn one last time before returning to his attention to the lights. “I know what I felt.”

They finish stringing the lights around the house and Dean climbs down from the ladder, eyes bright and nose pink. It nearly takes Cas’s breath away as he’s reminded yet again how otherworldly beautiful his best friend is. 

“Well, Cas, I’d say another job well done,” Dean says, appraising his work.

“Thanks again for agreeing to help me,” Cas says.

Dean leans against the ladder, tilts his head up toward the sky and Cas practically quivers with how absolutely unfair it is. “No sweat. Not like I had anything better to do anyway.” He flashes Cas a smile. “Besides, I know how excited you are to finally get to do this.”

Cas allows a small grin, overly pleased that Dean had been listening to all his blathering about Christmas the last few months. “It’s turning out better than I thought. I have an inflatable snowman to put in the front yard. I’m going to blow it up once I get back from the lab tonight.”

“Oh, whatcha got cookin’ tonight, Dexter?”

“Just some moisturizers I need to finish and get bottled. Trying to restock for the weekend. We got ambushed last weekend so I want to be prepared.” Just remembering the swarm of customers makes Cas’s skin crawl. “What about you? What are your plans tonight?”

Dean gives a noncommittal shrug. “Nothing really. Gonna stop by the Roadhouse for a bit and then head home and set up my tree.”

“Would you like some help?”

“With the tree? Nah, it’s not that big a deal.”

The idea of Dean decorating by himself doesn’t sit well in Cas’s stomach. “But it’s Christmas. You shouldn’t be doing this stuff alone.”

“Cas, not everyone is as into Christmas as you.”

Cas squints. “You don’t even have a real tree, do you?”

“I… it’s a tree. Sort of.”

“Well, that settles it. I’ll stop by with some things after I finish at the lab. I have an extra tree and some decorations I decided not to use.”

Dean laughs and gathers his supplies. “You have an extra tree?”

Cas can hear the judgement in his voice and gives a stiff shrug. “I wanted to be prepared in case something happened to my first one.”

“Ah-ha. Gabe and Anna still not on board with Operation Novak Family Christmas?” he asks a little breathy as they haul the ladder to the garage. 

“They seem a little worried about what all the snowmen and reindeer with do to their reputations.”

“Ah yes,” Dean chuckles. “The fine witches of Lawrence, Kansas. I suppose Frosty would put a damper on the mystical aesthetic.

Cas hums, rolling his eyes as he recalls the looks of horror his siblings had worn when he’d expressed interest in celebrating Christmas this year. The Novaks didn’t do Christmas, or any other bank holiday really. They celebrated solstices and equinoxes.

They were a well-known family of witches, accepted by their community going back generations, and deeply proud of their heritage to the point of being obnoxious if you asked Cas. They tended to stay pretty tight-knit, flaunted their identities through their dark wardrobes and gaudy amounts of jewelry, inherited the same jobs and businesses: a tarot card shop downtown, a bookstore that hosted more tomes on the craft than any other subject, and the apothecary. And then there were those who found ways to make a living off their gift. 

Each of the Novaks had a gift, a special power beyond the ability to cast. Some had visions, some could read minds, there was a distant cousin who could levitate. There seemed to be no order or lineage linked to the gift one was born with; they each just woke up one day in their adolescence with an ability.

All of them except for Cas, that is. He’s twenty-eight and still has no signs of a gift. They’d tested him, brought in empaths and psychics to do readings, tried crystals, consulted with ancestors. Nothing. No explanation. It just wasn’t within him. It was the greatest mystery in his family — and their greatest shame. A Novak who was normal. How ghastly. 

Cas has learned to live with it, though. Even if he had nothing special to offer, he could still be useful. He had a mind for science and a steady hand, so he’d inherited the apothecary from his grandmother. He spends his days tending the gardens, blending salves and ointments and herbal teas. Their business had grown quite nicely under his guidance, drawing in a bigger crowd seeking all-natural health and beauty projects. He was proud of his work and the life he’d built around it. 

And if he was still going to be looked down on for being the “normal” one in the family, then he was going to roll with it as far as he could. Which, for the first year in his life, meant celebrating a fully decked out, ultra commercialized, corny Christmas instead of Yule. 

It was the perfect year because his parents were on some haunted house tour in Europe and Grandmother had passed years ago so Cas didn’t have to worry about sending her to an early grave when he put Santa and his eight reindeer on top of her house. Gabe had inherited the old Victorian but he and Cas were sharing the space and he’d pretty much given Cas free reign. 

It’s going to be Cas’s first real Christmas and he’s determined that it be perfect with all the bells and whistles: the house decked out in lights and wreaths, eating snowman-shaped sugar cookies by the brightly lit tree, listening to cheesy holiday tunes while drinking eggnog by the fire, and kissing someone under the mistletoe — someone with really pretty, soft looking lips, and cute freckles and a broad chest that Cas could slide his hand across…

Cas’s studies Dean as the other man lifts the ladder and deposits it safely on the wall, watches the way his shoulders roll under his coat, thinks of how thick his biceps must look flexing like that. God he just wants to take the coat off him and touch, fingers dragging over the warm flannel that no doubt lies beneath it, slide his hand underneath and feel hot skin-

_“Jesus Christ!”_

Cas startles at Dean’s cry, eyes going wide as he watches the zipper on Dean’s jacket lower as if it’s being pulled down… by no one. 

Dean looks up, frantic, grabbing for his zipper. “What the hell is going on?”

“Perhaps the zipper is broken?” Cas suggests.

Dean gestured down at himself. “Cas, come on, that looked like someone was purposefully unzipping my jacket. And earlier, I told you it felt like someone grabbed my ass.”

“Dean, there’s no one here besides you and me.”

“Well then, what the fuck is it?”

Cas can only shrug, his mind still spinning from what he’d just witnessed, and a certain discomfort settling in his stomach. “A ghost, perhaps?”

Dean purses his lips, unamused. “Really, Cas? A ghost?”

Cas frowns right back. “You’re best friends with a witch, but you draw your line at ghosts?”

All the airs blows out of Dean and he throws up his arms in defeat. “Look I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s starting to creep me out.”

“Maybe we should get out of here,” Cas suggests. “I need to get ready to head to the shop anyway.”

Dean gives a snort but follows Cas out of the garage. Cas stomps through the snow, brain racing in an effort to come up with an explanation for what had just happened. It wasn’t the weirdest thing to ever occur at the Novak house but it certainly wasn’t typical. 

Maybe it really was a ghost messing around. It’s not completely out of question. But if it was a ghost trying to get a better look at Dean, they could at least go for the good stuff like-

_“What the fuck!”_

Cas spins around and nearly falls over. “Dean!”

His best friend is grabbing at his crotch, fighting some invisible force for the possession of his pants. “Cas!” he yelps, tugging the zipper back up, “what is- oh my god!” He finally manages to reclaim the zipper and pulls it up and buttons them up. When he looks at Cas, his eyes are wild with embarrassment and fear and Cas wants to die because thoughts are starting to string together-

But no. _It’s impossible._

“Okay I don’t know what’s going on here but if it is a ghost, it’s a pervert,” Dean declares. “I’m getting out of here before things get too crazy.”

“I think that’s for the best,” Cas says, shaking with effort to keep his voice level. 

“See you later, Cas.”

Cas doesn’t respond — can’t, really. He watches Dean walk toward the front gate and promptly spins on his heel and runs into the house.

*****  
Dean stumbles out toward his car where he’d parked on the street, hands still hovering over his groin just in case any more spirits decide to get familiar with him again. What the hell was going on?

“You pee your pants, Dean-o?” a cheery voice startles him and Dean looks up to find Gabriel Novak’s gaze trained on his crotch, a small grin on his lips as he looks up. “Or you just happy to see me?”

Dean frowns and pulls his hands away. “Ha-ha, Gabe. I was just, ugh, nothing. It’s nothing.” He clears his throat, trying to shake it off and refocuses on the man in front of him. “Where have you been? Cas needed your help with decorations.”

Gabe fakes a look of disappointment. “Oh my, was that today? Anna, why didn’t you tell me we were supposed to put up decorations today?”

A car door slams shut and a red-headed woman approaches them. “I did and you said we should to go to the mall.”

Gabe glares at his sister and Dean leverages them both with a scowl. 

“Don’t be too mad, Dean,” Gabe says. “At least you got to spend some alone time with Cas. If anything, you should be thanking us.”

The hairs on the back of Dean’s neck stand up. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he says, far too defensive.

Golden eyes circle in a dramatic eye roll. “Oh please, are we still playing this? Everyone in this city knows you want to bone Cas.”

“Well, everyone except Cas,” Anna chimes in. 

It takes a full five seconds for Dean’s brain to digest their accusations, his body flushing bright red from head to toe. “I-I don’t- what are you- w-why would you think-”

“Save it Dean,” Anna cuts him off and her blue gaze, so much like Cas’s, bores into him tiredly and with no tolerance for his bullshit. “You really shouldn’t lie to an empath about your feelings.”

If Dean could turn redder he would have right then as he remembers Anna’s gift. As it is, he can’t turn redder without risk of implosion, so he ducks his head instead. “How long have you known?” he whispers.

He can feel the siblings regarding each other. “How long have he and Cas known each other?”

“About twelve years,” Gabe says. 

“Right, so twelve years,” Anna concludes.

“I’m honestly surprised you managed to keep it to yourself all this time,” Gabe muses.

“Oh trust me,” Anna scoffs, “there were a few times he came close to breaking. Valentine’s day of 2013 was a mess. And don’t even get me started on high school. All the hormones and the dreams; it was-”

“Okay!” Dean shouts over her, kind of wishing that ghost would show up and pull him into the next plane of existence or wherever it is ghosts dwell. “Okay we get it. No need to bring all that up.”

“So when are you going to do something about it?” Gabe asks.

Dean swallows. God, are his hands sweating? “What do you mean?”

“When are you going to tell Cas how you feel?” Anna elaborates. 

“Will it at least be in this century?”

“What? No! No, I’m not- it’s not a-” Dean sucks in a deep breath, takes a moment to calm himself before his heart collapses because this is the most stressed he’s felt since police academy. “Look. I appreciate you guys caring, but it’s not going to happen, okay? I tried. But your brother isn’t interested in me like that and I have to move on.”

The siblings tilt their heads at him and it’s such a Cas thing it makes Dean’s heart swell.

“Move on?” Gabe asks. “What do you mean?”

Dean tries to find the right words but doesn’t have the courage to say them.

So Anna speaks for him. “You have a date.”

Dean meets her eyes and gives a nod like it’s his death sentence. The air in the next moment certainly feels colder, more threatening.

“Does Cas know?” The question comes from Gabe and his normally cheerful tone is chilly and Dean can’t help the response of irritation he feels.

“No, Gabe, he doesn’t. And he doesn’t need to. Cas and I aren’t dating and we’re never going to. I’m sorry to disappoint you but that’s just how it is and I need to accept that and so do you.”

“But you love him,” Anna says and boy does that hurt to heard it so plainly stated. 

“Well, I think it’s time for me to stop.”

“That’s not how hearts work, Dean.”

All Dean can do is shrug. “Gotta give it a shot, right?”

The siblings don’t respond and Dean knows they’re at a dead end. “I gotta head out, guys. Have a happy Yule. Or a merry Christmas. See ya.”

He hurries toward the Impala, eager to escape the cold and the sorrow burning inside him. He shouldn’t still feel this way. He should be over all this; the feelings, the lingering hopes. There’s just no point in letting it get him down anymore.

“Dean.”

He looks over his shoulder as he unlocks the driver’s door. Anna stands just a few feet away looking righly magical with her bright red hair burning against the snowy background. 

“If Cas gave you a sign,” she says, eyes intense and calculating, “that he was interested, would you take it?”

Dean frowns. “What?”

“Just answer the question,” she says impatiently. 

An icy breeze burns against Dean’s cheek and he looks up at the gray skies. He laughs, tiredly, and pulls the car door open. “It’d have to be one hell of a sign.”


	2. Chapter 2

Inside the house, Cas is pacing furiously and about two seconds from throwing a vase across the room. 

He hears a soft clatter and spins around to watch the vintage flower vase on the kitchen table sway and settle back into place. 

No, no, no, no, no. It couldn’t be. 

_He was supposed to be the normal one!_

Somewhere in the background the front door opens and closes and two pairs of feet squeak into the house.

“Castiel?” his sister’s voice carries to him, sharp with concern. The footsteps get faster. “Cas, what’s wrong?”

Cas turns slowly to face his siblings, his mouth opening and closing uselessly a few times as he struggles to find the right words. “I think I’m going crazy,” he settles for. 

Gabe squints. “In which way?”

“I think… I might have undone Dean’s pants earlier-”

“Well it’s about time,” Gabe snickers.

“-with my mind.”

Silence falls over the house but the air is so tense you’d have thought lightning struck. Cas stares ahead blankly, too afraid to talk or even think. 

“Cas,” Anna finally breaks the silence, “what do you mean you _think_ you undid Dean’s pants with your mind?”

Cas throws his hands up and falls into one of dining room chairs. “I don’t know! I was just- we were in the garage and I was kind of thinking about him and how I-” his cheeks heat “-how I wanted to touch his chest a-and then his jacket- just started unzipping. On its own.”

“Still don’t see where the pants come in,” Gabe says. 

“Well after that we were leaving and I had a-a thought about… Dean’s pants… and then the zipper on his jeans came down and he actually had to fight to get it back up but it was like I- like I was the one…” Cas waves his hand around, searching for but also avoiding the answer he knows is inevitable. He sighs and folds his hands in his lap. “Like I’m the one that did it.”

Neither Anna nor Gabe say anything for a moment and Cas is left to look between his younger siblings as they process his story. 

Finally, Gabe grins. “So telekinesis, huh? Pretty cool gift, Cassie.”

“Gabriel, we both know perfectly well that this is impossible. I’m not-”

“A witch?” Anna supplies. 

Cas almost shudders at the word, as if it’s not something he’s heard every day his entire life. “It’s not possible,” he says finally. “I’ve never shown any signs before. I’ve been tested and analyzed by every scryer and healer from here to Belfast and they’ve found nothing.”

“Maybe you’re a late bloomer,” Gabe says with a mischievous grin. “In more ways than one.”

“Twenty-eight is really pushing it, don’t you think?” Cas scowls. “Everyone else develops their gift by twelve.”

They both look to Anna who seems lost in thought. “I’ve never heard of anyone developing their gift this late,” she admits.

“So it was a fluke,” Cas says and his chest starts to feel lighter. “A coincidence.” _And a sign that I need to stop checking out my best friend._

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Anna says. “Just because we’ve never seen it before, doesn’t mean it’s not true. Your powers could just now be manifesting. We should probably contact Aunt Naomi and Aunt Hael.”

“Absolutely not,” Cas says immediately. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t want the aunts involved. I don’t want anyone involved because there’s nothing to get involved in. This isn’t a gift; it’s a sign that Dean needs better clothing.” The last thing Cas needs right now are the elders swarming around the house. This is supposed to be his year — his Christmas. He won’t have it ruined because his siblings think he has some superpower. 

“If it’s that important to you, we could wait until after Christmas, “ Anna says. 

Cas scowls at her. “Stop reading me,” he says and storms into the kitchen. 

He can’t handle any of this right now. It can’t be real. He doesn’t have a gift. That had practically been his entire identity in this family for over half his life. The witch with no magic. No purpose. The black sheep amongst the oddballs. 

Cas heads toward the fridge and checks on the rolls of cookie dough he has setting. He was going to back cut them out and bake them tonight after he finished with his decorations. Maybe he should make an early batch so he can take some to Dean’s.

“Move something.”

Cas almost jumps when Gabe’s voice pops up right behind him. He shoots a glare over his shoulder. “What?”

“Try to move something,” Gabe says. “With your mind.”

“Not happening.”

“Cas,” his brother groans. “I get that you’re all into the apple pie and everything nice normal little life-” Cas narrows his eyes “-but think about it like this: if you are developing a gift, you need to learn to control it. Or else you’ll be throwing shit around every time you sneeze.”

Cas sighs and releases his cookie dough. That’s not… a horrible point. 

His gaze settles on the kettle on the stove. He pictures it spinning, the handle rotating toward the front. Waits and waits without breathing for it to move and seal his fate. But it doesn’t. It never even twitches. He blows out a breath.

“Try something smaller.”

Anna is standing in the doorway, her arms over her chest and she nods toward a spoon on the counter. 

Cas refocuses on the spoon, imagines it flipping over or shooting off the edge and hopefully hitting one of his stubborn sibling’s in the head because he’s getting really tired of their bullsht. This is ridiculous and the damn thing is never going to move because Cas is not a-

The spoon flips and darts across the room, smacking against the wall right next to Gabe’s head.

“Holy shit,” Gabe breathes.

Cas shakes his head, disbelieving, and starts to back away, bumping into the refrigerator. “This can’t be happening.”

“It’s happening, Cassie!” Gabe cheers. “Congratulations, you got your gift!”

Cas shakes his head again, his body refusing to accept the idea. “No. I’m not a witch. I don’t- I’m just not.”

“How can you seriously still be in denial after that?” Gabe demands. “You just flipped a spoon!”

“It was a coincidence,” Cas snaps. “Or a spirit or maybe one of you did it without realizing.”

Gabe scoffs. “I have visions, Cas, and Anna’s empathic gift doesn’t move cutlery. That was all you.”

“No,” Cas says with all the finality he can muster. “I’m not a witch.”

“Anna!” Gabe says with deep frustration. “Will you please talk some sense into our unbearable older brother?”

Anna sighs and approaches them. “Okay, you want to claim that you’re not a witch, so prove it.”

Cas snorts and fetches his rolling pin from the pantry. “Doesn’t my entire existence thus far prove that?”

“Not if your powers are just not developing. There could have been a change, for whatever reason, and if that’s the case there’s one more thing we can try to prove it.”

“And what’s that?”

“You cast a spell.”

Cas almost pours the bag of flour he’s grabbing all over the floor. “You know I can’t cast, Anna.”

“That’s exactly the point,” she says. “If you truly aren’t a witch, then any spell you cast won’t work. Maybe the spoon and everything that happened to Dean really were flukes but we can’t know that for sure until we test you. We can prove tonight for once and for all, that you don’t have any magic.”

A sour feeling settles in Cas’s stomach and he really can’t explain it or why Anna’s words make him frown. “So you want me to cast a spell and if it doesn’t work, you’ll know for sure that I’m not a witch?”

“Exactly. We’ll cast something straightforward, something that can’t be interpreted too differently so you’ll have more concrete results. Then you can say with complete confidence whether or not you’re a witch.”

Cas lowers the flour to the counter and swallows. “Okay. So what spell do you want me to cast?”

Anna smiles then, small and sharp and almost threatening and Cas has the eery suspicion that he’s just fallen perfectly into a trap.

“I want you to cast a lust spell on Dean.”


	3. Chapter 3

Anna and Gabe slip into the shop, arms loaded with bags of gaudy decorations. 

“Remind me why we’re carrying all of this garbage,” Gabe says as they dodge patrons.

“Because Cas said he needs these when he goes over to Dean’s tonight,” Anna explains for probably the seventh time since she dragged Gabriel back out into the cold. “It’s the perfect time to cast the spell without Dean realizing anything.”

“Won’t Dean notice when Cas stops putting giant wreaths on every door to cast a circle in the middle of his apartment?”

“It’s not that kind of spell. Hello, Krissy!” Anna calls. 

Krissy looks up from where she’s stocking one of the shelves with face masks. “Hey, Anna,” she says as they get closer. She frowns at their bags. “Ugh, did I miss when Cas installed a kitchen in the back?”

“They’re not groceries, they’re Christmas decorations,” Gabe says bitterly. 

“But we already decorated the shop.”

Cas had strung some white lights around the ceiling and lined the shelves with some greenery, a few splashes of red every now and then. It was actually quite mellow considering how obnoxious Cas’s Christmas spirit could be. 

“They’re for Dean,” Anna explains. 

“Oh right,” Krissy says and her lips curl in a knowing smile. “Cas mentioned he was going over tonight. Finally gonna work a Christmas miracle?”

“We’re certainly going to try,” Anna says and guides Gabe through the employee door to the back of the shop.

The back is where all the products are made and bottled. Cas had industrialized it a bit since taking over the business. The giant space is now filled with long tables supporting all sorts of pots, containers, and tubes in all manners of bubbling, stirring, and simmering. Herbs and flowers hang from intricate racks on the ceiling, drying for whatever recipe Cas needs them. Cas had affectionately renamed it his laboratory and Anna had to admit, it was befitting.

Cas is bent over a mixing bowl just then, feeding something that smells like lavender into the bowl. He looks up at his siblings and gestures for them to wait. 

Anna and Gabe go about dumping their supplies on one of the free tables and Anna starts searching for the items she’ll need for the spell. 

“Maybe it’s a bit late to be concerned with now,” Gabe starts as he jumps to sit on the table, “but with a lust spell isn’t there a bit of an issue with… oh, I don’t know, a little thing called _consent_?”

Anna fishes her book from her purse. “Dean did consent,” she says, flipping to the right page. 

“I must have missed that part.”

“I asked Dean if he would accept if Cas showed interest. He said yes.”

Gabe just stares at her for a moment. “You’re kinda scary.”

“Thank you. Now go get me some mistletoe from the greenhouse.” 

Gabe scoots off the table and goes to fetch the mistletoe. 

Behind Anna, the whirring of the mixer stops and she hears Cas approach. “Did you bring everything I asked for?”

“Giant ass Christmas tree? Check,” Gabe shouts from somewhere in the greenhouse. “Every Santa and snowman figurine in the midwest? Check.”

“And a few extra items we picked up on the way,” Anna says. 

“Extra?” Cas inches closer to peer into the bags. “Like what?”

Gabe comes loping back into the lab then and Cas frowns down at his hands. “What’s that?” he asks, a little edge to his voice. Cas does not like people poking around his greenhouse without him. Especially Gabe after the rosemary incident. 

“It’s for the spell.” Anna holds her hand out and accepts the mistletoe. 

Cas takes a shuddering breath at the mention of the spell. Anna can feel him wanting to argue but they had made an agreement. In addition to proving that he is _not_ a witch, Anna and Gabe had promised to participate in his Christmas party if Cas casted the spell. If there was one thing Cas wanted as much as his desire for Dean, it was a cheesy Hallmark family Christmas. 

Gabe and Anna figured they could suffer through the ugly sweaters for one night if it made their big brother happy — and helped prove that he was magical afterall. 

With a short nod, Cas surrenders himself. “So why mistletoe?” he wonders, lifting the plant from where Anna placed it on the table. 

“It holds sexual energy,” Anna explains as she pulls out the ribbon and cuts a few inches. “The Druids used it to ward off evil and increase fertility.”

Cas drops the mistletoe. “Fertility? I’m not trying to get pregnant, Anna.”

“Wouldn’t that be a sight?” Gabe snickers. Matching blue eyes stare him down until he quiets and looks away. 

“It’s not going to magically impregnate you, Cas,” Anna says with a soft edge of impatience. “It’s the energy we need for the lust spell.”

“How am I supposed to cast this spell?” Cas asks. “I can’t just start chanting and waving incense around without Dean suspecting something.”

“Okay first of all, that’s a super offensive stereotype,” Gabe whines.

“That’s exactly what you do on full moons.”

“I know but it’s the way you said it.”

Anna rolls her eyes. “There will be no chanting or circle casting or incense,” she says over the two of them. “It’s really simple. You’re going to draw runes on this ribbon and then we’ll tie it to the mistletoe. You hang the mistletoe somewhere in Dean’s apartment and bam — he’ll start ripping his clothes off before you even get the tree up.”

Cas looks absolutely horrified. “I can’t just bring mistletoe to Dean’s. That will look so… obvious.”

“That’s kind of the point of the spell,” Gabe points out.

And Cas has no response for that. 

Anna hands him the mistletoe again. “Now I want you to hold this and speak of the moment you first fell in love with Dean.”

Cas accepts the mistletoe with a frown. “Why?”

“It’s part of the spell. I figured you’d prefer something with love as well. You want to infuse your emotions with the energy of the mistletoe. So talk about the moment you first knew you were in love with Dean.”

Cas stares down at the plant, a little weary, and Anna can feel his embarrassment even as he tries to recall that special moment. She senses him start to relax as the memory unfolds and a soft smile curves his lips. 

“We were still in college and I was studying in the library,” he starts, his voice almost a whisper. “It was late and I was super tired and stressed over a chem test. I’d been a monster all week. Cranky and antisocial and just miserable to be around. I think at one point I threatened to set the Impala on fire because Dean’s alarm woke me up.” Cas laughs wistfully. “But he never lost his patience with me or got mad. He checked in on me that night and he got worried when I didn’t respond so he walked through the snow to bring me dinner.” Cas looks up, joy coursing under his skin and the affection and appreciation he feels hits Anna like a tsunami.

“He stayed with me the entire night so he could walk me home. We didn’t leave until two in the morning. Dean fell asleep in one of the chairs. He was trying to read one of my chem books so he could quiz me on it and he fell asleep. And I just remember thinking, here’s this man sleeping in an old library chair with wet feet trying to read a boring old chemistry book and it’s all for me. Just me.” Cas shrugs. “And that was it. I think that’s the moment I admitted that I had been in love with Dean for a while.”

Anna smiles at her brother and reaches out to take back the mistletoe. “That was beautiful Cas.”

“And only a little bit nauseating,” Gabe says.

Cas gives him a dirty look.

“Now we add the runes,” Anna says, fetching a pencil from her bag and drawing each of them out. “Choose which ones you want. You have sex, love, serenity, dominance, and thrusting.”

Cas flushes a deep crimson at the mention of the last rune and Anna catches the barest hint of a fantasy including the arm of a couch and Dean leaning over Cas, covered in sweat. Yuck. “How many can I choose?” he asks

“As many as you want.”

He considers for a moment. “I’ll take each of them except dominance.”

Anna scribbles the runes on the white ribbon. 

“And add an extra love,” Cas says after a moment.

She adds the rune with a smile. 

“And three thrusting.”

Gabe throws his head back and laughs until he’s in tears.

Anna secures the ribbon around the mistletoe and hands it to Cas. “Okay so when you get to Dean’s just hang this up and let your magic work itself.”

“And when it doesn't work because I don’t have any?” Cas challenges.

“Then you have nothing to lose, do you?” Anna levels him with her own challenge and sees the blue in Cas’s eyes brighten. “Go get your man, big brother. Be brave.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry y'all but this just keeps getting longer and longer. Looks like it should be about six chapters at this point and I'm working on as I type!
> 
> This chapter is mostly Dean remembering the past so I hope you like flashbacks.

Dean stands at his stove, juggling a few pots and pans. He’d been overwhelmed with a need to busy himself the second he’d gotten home from his date. It had gone just about as well as Dean thought it would — stunted, awkward, and a little too forced.

Maybe Anna had been right about him trying to move on. _The heart doesn’t work that way…_ Maybe Dean was ready for the longing and waiting to end, but his heart wasn’t quite there yet. That just made the hold Cas has over him seem that much more pathetic. 

Because Dean has known for years that Cas doesn’t feel the same way about him. 

He still remembers that night when he’d hiked through a borderline blizzard in the middle of finals week to bring Cas his dinner. Cas was holed away in one of the private study rooms on the top floor, surrounded texts on chemistry and plants that were bound to give anyone a headache. Cas was looking rather ragged at the moment, head hanging over an open book, fingers buried in his hair. 

“Hey, Einstein,” Dean had teased, poking his head through the door. “You got a second?”

“Einstein was a theoretical physicist, Dean, not an herbalist,” was Cas’s grumbled response. “And, no, I don’t have a second.”

“Well, what if it’s for a very handsome visitor-?”

“No, thank you.”

“-who happens to have two bacon doubles, about a pound of french fries, and not two but four slices of pie from a certain herbalist’s favorite restaurant?”

Cas’s head had shot up so fast, first looking at Dean’s face and then traveling down to the plastic bag sagging in his hand. “Roadhouse?”

Dean had scoffed at the silly question. “I did say your favorite, didn’t I? So you gonna clear some space so we can eat or you want me to beat it and let you carry on with your books?”

Cas had hesitated just a second before moving his books to the floor. Dean had put out the spread and together they’d gorged themselves for a full hour. By the end there was color in Cas’s face again and he was laughing and damn if that sight hadn’t warmed Dean down to his soggy toes.

Of course, the next day Dean wasn’t feeling quite as nice about it when he woke up with a cold. He fought his way through it to attend his final exams but by Thursday was laid up in bed, unmoving and barely responsive.

Cas checked on him that night when he got home. “Dean, I’ve told you this isn’t a cold. You have the flu and you need to go to the hospital.”

“Who ha’… time fer tha’?” Dean had slurred before conking out.

With Cas’s finals also behind him he had spent the next few days playing nurse to Dean’s stubborn ass. Though not at all the nice nurse, more like the nurse from hell who tried to smother Dean to death with blankets, forced Dean to drink nasty medicine, and kept him on a strict hydration schedule that consisted of a lot of gross teas Cas made himself. When Dean finally started to come around he wasn’t sure if it was more due to Cas’s treatment or his body’s desperation to end the torment. 

Either way by Saturday he was sitting up in bed, finally feeling more in his right mind. Cas came in with his tea tray and Dean immediately recoiled. 

Cas just laughed at him. “Don’t worry, this one is just peppermint. I think you’re well enough we can back off the bitter stuff.”

Dean accepts the cup and takes a whiff just to be sure and swirls of peppermint wafts into his nose, clearing his sinuses like magic. He scrunches his nose. “Damn. That’s powerful.”

“I may have had Anna charm it for extra strength,” Cas admitted, taking a seat on the edge of bed. “Just to be safe.”

Dean had grinned. He knew Cas didn’t like inviting magic into his life. It meant a lot that he would ask his sister to work on a tea just for Dean. He takes a sip and put his mug on the bedside table so he can take Cas’s hand. Cas’s hand doesn’t feel ice cold to him anymore, it’s rather warm and soft and his fingers curl around Cas’s on instinct. Cas’s curl back. 

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Well you’ve been taking care of me the last week,” Cas replied. “This seemed like the least I could do.”

Dean shook his head. “No, but it was right after finals and you were tired and the last thing you needed was to play nursemaid to some dumbass too stubborn to go see a doctor.”

Cas had smiled and reached up to push Dean’s hair out of his face. Dean’s body went boneless under the soft touch. “True,” Cas had agreed, still moving a few stray strands before his smiled turned into a teasing grin, “but you’re my dumbass.”

That had been the moment for Dean, the first second in the grand eternity of the universe, after years of pining, where he felt like maybe Cas could love him back. And in this moment he had to do something, had to tell Cas that he felt the same.

So he’d pulled on Cas’s hand and Cas leaned in, a question in his eyes that quickly morphed into horror when he realized what Dean was doing. The moment was broken by a shattering noise and both men looked over to where Dean’s tea mug was now scattered across the floor. 

Cas jumped up like there was a gravitational pull away from Dean. “I, uh, I’ll clean this up. You should probably go take a shower. I’ll have more tea waiting when you’re done.”

Dean still tries not to think too often of the frightened look on Cas’s face because it makes his chest ache. He had known right then that if Cas could look that way at the mere idea of kissing Dean, there was no way Cas could love him. But even after having seven years to process, Dean’s heart just wasn’t ready to accept it. 

_You’re pathetic, Winchester._

He couldn’t disagree.

There’s a knock at the door and Dean throws a colander into the sink, calling out, “it’s open!”

A moment later, he hears heavy breathing as he’s draining the pasta and looks over his shoulder to see the bottom half of Cas and the top half shrouded by grocery bags. He dumps the pasta and runs over to help. “What’s all this?”

“Christmas decorations,” Cas says as they safely deposit the bags on the kitchen island. 

Dean peaks into the bags and catches sight of a hideous Santa statue and bites a grimace. “Aw, Cas, you really shouldn’t have.”

“Well, I know how pathetic your decorating can be and wanted to be prepared.” Cas says it in his typical dry tone but Dean sees the way the corner of his lips are fighting off a smile. He rolls his eyes and returns to the stove. “You’re making dinner?”

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t have a chance to eat between work and here.”

“That’s very kind of you, Dean, thank you.”

The sincerity in Cas’s voice almost hurts. It always does, just a little. “It’s not a big deal.”

There’s a brief silence where Dean fusses over dinner and he’s not sure what Cas is doing but Dean can feel his eyes on him. He doesn’t know why and isn’t sure what to say so he just focuses on the food.

Finally, Cas speaks. “You look very nice. Did you go somewhere?”

Dean looks down at himself like he can’t remember what he’s wearing. “Uh, yeah, I, uh… had a date tonight.”

The spoon in Dean’s hand lurches and flings sauce all over his chest. He hisses from the heat and moves back just as Cas approaches with a towel.

“Dean, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Dean stutters, dabbing at himself and avoiding Cas’s eyes. “Just lost control for a second.” He tries to laugh it off but Cas doesn’t seem to be buying it, still standing extremely close and the embarrassment along with the horror he feels at having told Cas about the date is just a little more than Dean can take. “Look, uh, I’m going to change out of this. Do you have anything else in the car?”

“Yes, there are two more bags and a tree in the backseat,” Cas answers slowly. “I’ll-”

“I’ll get them,” Dean says, holding a hand out to stop Cas. “Just let me change first. Can you watch the pot?”

He looks up just high enough to see Cas nod his head and holds his hand out for the keys. 

Cas digs them out of his coat pocket. Dean takes them but before he can pull away Cas closes his hand around Dean’s. Dean looks up and Cas’s eyes are clear and blue and not for the first time Dean wonders if it’s the magic in him. Cas stares back at him and says, “Be careful.” His voice is impossibly lower and Dean feels his heartbeat trip. 

He takes a few wobbly steps backward toward the door. Dean has no idea where that came from or what it means. All he knows is that something feels different.


	5. Chapter 5

Cas tears into the grocery bags the moment the door to the apartment closes.

A date. Dean had gone on a _date._

Cas doesn’t know why it fuels him panic but he feels like his heart is trying to tear its way out of his chest.

By the gods, a _date._

It shouldn’t be this jarring. Dean was a beautiful man, an unfairly gorgeous work of art really with the loveliest personality to match and in any other universe would surely have been snatched up and married with beautiful green-eyed and freckled babies by now. Truly, Cas has been blessed to have not had to feel this sickness in his stomach much sooner and many times over.

But he hasn’t and he’s completely unprepared for what it’s doing to him now. 

What does it mean if Dean is finally seeing people? Has he just never found anyone attractive enough to pursue or has he just never told Cas about his relationships? Surely not.

Maybe it’s that he’s finally found someone so exceptional, someone who is actually worthy of Dean, who makes him happy and loves him more than anyone else could. Someone who Dean loves just as deeply. 

Someone who isn’t Cas.

The decorations in Cas’s hands start to tremble. 

Oh gods, not now. This can’t all be happening at once. 

_What am I supposed to do?_ Cas isn’t sure if he’s asking himself, the ancestors, or no one at all. _What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?_

It’s then that he realizes that the answer is the very thing he’s searching for. The mistletoe. 

Maybe this is why he has it. The fates knew Dean was falling in love and provided Cas with a way to stop it. A way to make Dean want him, to love him. Cas could finally have Dean the way he’s always wanted him… but Dean didn’t want the same thing.

Cas stills.

“Oh my gods,” he breathes into the empty apartment. 

He can’t do this. What had he even been thinking? He can’t cast a lust spell on Dean. Mostly because he one-hundred percent is absolutely not a witch… but also because with the small ridiculous chance that he is, he can’t risk this spell working and forcing Dean to act in way that he normally wouldn’t. Casting a spell on someone without their knowledge crossed all sorts of boundaries on it’s own, but a lust spell? Oh gods, what if it had actually led to sex? Wouldn’t that be assault?

Cas dug into the bags with a renewed fervor. He was a monster and a horrible friend. How could he ever have even entertained the thought of doing this Dean? Dean deserves so much better than this — so much better than someone so selfish and desperate that he would resort to magic to attack his best friend. It was cowardly and disgusting and unforgivable. 

Cas empties the contents of the bags over the counter but the mistletoe is nowhere to be found. Where the hell had he put the damn thing? He could have sworn he set it on top of the-

The Christmas cookies. Which were in one of the bags still waiting in the car. 

Cas felt dread rush through him like ice water washing down his spine and spun around as the front door swung open. 

Dean entered and kicked the door shut on the cold air trying to follow him inside. “Wind really picked up,” he starts to say but then Cas is flying across the room and ripping the bags from his arms. “Uh, you okay, Cas?”

“Yes!” Cas says far too loud. “Would you mind going and getting the tree while I sort everything?”

Dean frowns but nods. “One tree coming right up.” 

The second he’s gone, Cas dissects the bags one by one but there’s still no sign of the mistletoe and his heart rate spikes to dangerous levels. Where the fuck could it be?

Dean returns a few minutes later, breathing heavy and labored as he drags the tree inside. “You couldn’t have gone with one a little more stairs-friendly?” he says gruffly.

Cas runs over to help pick up the other end and carry it ot a cleared corner of the living room. He circles the tree, peering closely to make sure the mistletoe hadn’t somehow gotten caught in a branch but there’s no sign of it. 

Maybe he really had forgotten to grab the mistletoe when he’d left the shop. Or it could have fallen out. That had to be it because the damn thing is nowhere in sight. He’ll just swing by the lab on his way home and destroy it so everyone could pretend that this never happened. 

“Everything okay, Cas?” Dean asks and his voice is so close it makes Cas jump. When he looks over his shoulder Dean is right there, barely leaving a breath between their bodies. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” Cas says, trying to sound much calmer than he feels. “Just checking for any holes in the tree.”

“And are there?”

Cas frowns. “Any what?”

Dean’s hands curl over his shoulders and give a squeeze. “Any holes that need to be filled.”

Cas’s body goes completely rigid, an inferno burning through his body that he tries to douse with logic because there is absolutely no way those words just came from Dean Winchester’s mouth.

“You seem really tense,” Dean says out of nowhere and his hands squeeze at Cas’s shoulders again. “Stressful day at the lab?”

His warm hands begin kneading the muscles and Cas feels the shock at the contact like a swift punch to the gut. It wasn’t like he and Dean never touched. There were hugs, a supportive arm grasp every now and then, occasionally falling asleep on one another when movie nights went too long. But never anything like this. Dean was pressed up right to Cas’s back, pinning him against the tree and Cas felt every point of contact like a bolt of lightning. 

“You really need to learn to relax every once in a while,” Dean says, his voice low. “Take better care of yourself. Or… let someone else do it.”

When he says the last part his voice whispers across the back of Cas’s neck, reigniting the inferno in Cas’s groin and he jerks so hard he kicks the tree. He curses and Dean takes a step back but his hands don’t leave, instead just slide down Cas’s body, one bracing on Cas’s back while the other falls to his hip. 

“You okay?” he asks and it sounds so damn casual, like he isn’t unleashing a storm of arousal in Cas’s body and turning his mind to a dizzy whirlwind of confusion and desire.

Cas has enough control left to make a rational decision and move away, out of Dean’s touch. “I-I’m fine,” he says, trying to disguise a few deep breaths. “Just stubbed my toe.”

“Do you need me to look at it?” Dean asks, eyes earnest and he takes a step toward Cas.

Cas immediately steps back. “No, I’m quite fine. Um, we should get started with all this stuff.” He sidesteps Dean until he’s safely at the kitchen island. “You want to finish with dinner while I start setting stuff up?”

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” Dean vows, the last word dripping heavily from his tongue like honey, and then he’s walking toward the stove. 

Cas stares after his best friend, completely breathless. What the absolute fuck?

Hands shaking, Cas tries to refocus on the task at hand. He sets the cookies out and moves into the living room, seeking the remote. He scrolls through the TV guide until he finds the Hallmark channel. Something about a soldier and a Christmas card. He selects it and turns the volume at a reasonable level.

Just as he’s putting the remote down a hand settles on his waist and he feels a warmth behind him that is becoming familiar. 

“Oh, we’ve seen this one,” Dean speaks into his ear. 

“We have?” Cas squeaks, freezing in place.

“Yeah we were hanging out at your house and you were wearing those hideous reindeer socks and you got so pissed when they almost kissed but the girl backed out.”

A tingle runs up Cas’s back and he’s not able to shake the feeling that he’s being hunted right now. “I-I don’t remember that.”

“I could never forget it,” Dean murmurs. His other hand comes to lie on Cas’s hip. “You were so cute, I could barely keep my hands to myself.” Cas sucks in a deep breath. “But then again, I have that problem constantly when I’m around you.”

That gives Cas the strength he needs to face Dean, shock etched across his face. “Dean, w-what are you talking about? What’s happening?”

“Well I’m hoping that I’ll finally get to kiss you,” Dean replies easily, eyes dipping down to Cas’s lips. “And maybe a little more afterward.”

“K-kiss?” Cas’s brain short circuits then. 

If that mistletoe was here, this would have proved to Cas that he sure as hell was a witch and at least then he would understand why this was happening. But it wasn’t and all Cas could think was that this was a dream or an extremely vivid hallucination. But there was no way it was real.

Dean’s hand comes to cup Cas’s chin then, tilting his head back, and he stares into Cas’s eyes. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long, Cas,” he says and he looks at Cas’s lips again. “I’ve always wondered what they’d feel like.” His thumb circles over the corner of Cas’s mouth, a gentle but Earth-shattering touch. “Can I feel them now, Cas? Please?”

Cas’s response is a dropped jaw and some ineloquent sputtering because _this cannot be happening._ Dean actually wants this. He wants Cas.

A small part of Cas still says it’s too good to be true. After all, the last time Cas had thought he was about to be kissed by Dean, Dean had been high off his ass with flu medicine. But the rest of Cas says it doesn’t matter. Dean isn’t under the influence of anything right now and he’s made it more than clear what he wants and it just so happens to be the same thing Cas wants.

So when Dean starts to lean his head down, Cas tilts his up higher and meets him the middle for their first kiss. And in all the miracles Cas had seen throughout his life, there was no magic quite like kissing Dean Winchester.

One hand still cups his chin while the other grips his waist and even as Dean’s touch grounds Cas it also makes him feel light and vulnerable, swept away by every lick, nibble, and moan that comes from Dean’s mouth. 

“God, Cas, wanted this for long,” Dean breathes into him, pulling back just slightly, their foreheads knocking together. 

“Me too,” Cas pants, his hands coming to fist in Dean’s T-shirt. “So damn long.”

Their second kiss is somehow more intense than the first, Cas throwing everything he has into it. After years of dreaming and fantasizing, he finally gets to _take_ and touch and taste and he won’t waste a single second of it. 

Dean’s hands start to wander, running down Cas’s back to rest over the swell of his ass and they squeeze, earning a sharp gasp from Cas. He can feel Dean smile in response and Cas presses closer, letting his own hands journey up and Dean’s body. He slips beneath Dean’s shirt, feeling the warm skin along the slope of his back, and starts to bring them around to the front when something catches his finger. 

Cas leans out of the kiss, smiling as Dean chases his lips, and looks down. And his heart falls to his stomach. 

Because the thing that caught his finger was a little white ribbon hanging out of Dean’s pocket and when Cas tugs on it, he finds the mistletoe.

“W-where did you get this?” he asks, all the warmth slowly fleeing his body, leaving him cold and alone.

Dean nuzzles his neck, hands still running wild. “In one of the bags in the car,” he says. “Thought I could use it to steal a kiss.” He nibbles on Cas’s earlobe, presses his lips to the bolt of Cas’s jaw. “Turns out I didn’t need it after all.”

And the more Dean continues to touch and kiss him, the sicker Cas feels. “Dean,” he says weakly, trying to pull away. “Dean, we can’t do this.”

Dean gives a little whine. “Why not? Feels so good, Cas. Want you so bad.”

Cas takes a step back, breaking out of Dean’s hold. He shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

A smirk curls Dean’s swollen lips, all sorts of cocky and as obnoxious as it is endearing. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart,” he drawls, “you have no idea just how bad.” His hand lowers to the front of his jeans and Cas blushes. 

“Dean, no. We can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

“How is it wrong when we both want it?” Dean is reaching for him again, looking almost out of his mind and Cas’s stomach lurches.

He looks down at the mistletoe. This damn thing.

He takes off across the apartment without another thought, darting into the kitchen and to the sink.

“Cas?” Dean calls after him.

Cas switches on the garbage disposal and tosses the mistletoe down the drain.

“Whoa, Cas!” Dean says and he’s right next to him, catching the ribbon before the entire plant is shredded. “What the hell are you doing?”

“We have to destroy it!” Cas insists.

“Why would we do that?”

“Because it’s spelled!” 

“What?” Dean blinks at him, shaking his head. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Cas groans and pulls at his hair. Why did he ever do this? He wanted Dean so badly he’d thrown himself into the biggest mess he’d probably ever see in his entire life and now he was about to lose his best friend because of it.

The thought was enough to choke him up and he can’t even bear to look at Dean.

“Hey, whoa, whoa,” Dean says, his voice going soft. He turns the disposal off and then his hands are cupping Cas’s face. “Hey, what’s going on, sweetheart? Talk to me.”

“Don’t call me that,” Cas almost begs, feeling the endearment like a slap to the face.

Dean flinches. “Oh. You, uh, you don’t like it?” His hands start to fall.

“I don’t deserve it,” Cas says, sinking in on himself.

“Cas, what are you talking about?”

_Here it all goes._

He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I put a spell on the mistletoe.”

“A spell?” Dean echoes. Cas nods. “Okay… What kind of spell?”

“A lust spell. For you.” Cas cringes as he says it and awaits Dean’s outburst.

But Dean is just quiet for a moment. His hands fall from Cas and Cas immediately misses their warmth. “Why would you try to use a lust spell on me? I thought you couldn’t do magic.”

Cas swallows roughly. “We, uh, think I might just have been a late bloomer.”

“Okay, Cas, you have to be more clear here because I’m super confused. You’re saying you have magic now?”

“You know today when your zipper came down? And you thought you felt someone grabbing your butt?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, those things are kinda hard to forget.”

Cas twists his hands together. “It wasn’t a ghost. I think- it was me.”

“But you couldn’t have,” Dean says. “Cas, your hands were full the first time. And the last two times, I was looking right at you.”

Cas nods and takes a breath, ready to let it all implode. “I did it with my mind.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends. Watch out for some smut at the end of this chapter. There will be a short epilogue after this and then this story will be complete. Please enjoy!

There’s a long silence where they can hear nothing except the dialogue from the movie playing in the next room. Dean stares at his best friend, too many thoughts tumbling in his head for him to formulate a full sentence. 

Just three minutes ago they’d been kissing. He had held his best friends in his arms and tasted twelve years of dreams coming true and he had felt Cas in his hands, felt Cas’s hands touching him everywhere like a man on a mission. It was so surreal, Dean would have thought he’d just imagined it — wouldn’t be the first time — but the evidence of their very real encounter is still pressing painfully against the front of his jeans and Cas’s lips are still wet and his clothes rumpled. It had happened.

And now he’s hearing about a lust spell. Cas — _his_ Cas who owns approximately twenty pairs of bee socks and cries at the end of “Marley and Me” even though he’s seen it a hundred times and has probably only said the word sex four times in his entire life — that Cas tried to cast a lust spell on _Dean._

And on top of all of that, now Cas can apparently… move things...

“With… your mind,” Dean finishes his thought aloud. 

Cas won’t meet his eyes and chooses to stare at his feet instead. He holds out a hand and Dean frowns at it, confused, until one of the wreaths starts to rise off the counter. Dean gapes as it turns in circles with the motion of Cas’s finger and then drops back down.

“Anna and Gabe think it’s my gift,” Cas whispers. “Because when you felt your ass being touched on the ladder I had… been thinking of you.” His shoulders rise over his reddened ears. “And the same when your jacket zipper came down.”

For a moment all Dean can focus on is that Cas just admitted to thinking about his ass and his mind fills with new questions. “And my pants?” he asks after a beat.

Cas nods, seeming to get smaller and smaller. “I also think I’m the one responsible for the pasta sauce landing on you earlier?”

Dean glances over at the stove where the sauce sits, probably long cold by this point. “That was you?”

“The idea of you going on a date did not exactly sit well with me.”

“Okay,” Dean draws out the word because this is almost too much to process. “So you can… move things with your mind?” Cas nods again. “So that’s your gift. Okay. Well, that’s awesome Cas. But what does that have to do with the lust spell?”

“Because I wanted…” Cas starts and his voice breaks. He swallows and takes a shaky breath. “Because I wanted you to love me.” He glances up then from under his lashes, looking petrified as he whispers the next words, “The way I’ve always loved you.”

Dean’s chest tightens at the confession. “Cas.” He doesn’t try to restrain himself a second longer and takes the few steps between them to wrap Cas in his arms. One hand cups the back of Cas’s head, cradling him to Dean’s shoulder and Dean presses soft kisses to his temple. “You never needed a lust spell to make me want you.”

“You just think that because of the spell,” Cas says and even muffled by Dean’s chest, Dean can hear his voice shaking.

“I’ve damn near been in love with you for twelve years, Castiel,” Dean says, tilting Cas’s head up to look at him. “No spell was ever going to change that.”

Cas blinks owlishly, the beautiful red tint returning to his cheeks. “Twelve years?” he breathes. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I did,” Dean grimaces. “Well, I tried to kiss you once. But you… didn’t want me like that so I dropped it. Figured it was better to have you in my life as a friend than as nothing at all.”

“You never tried to kiss me,” Cas objects, his face implying that the very idea is the most ludicrous thing to be said tonight. 

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean says. “I understood that you just didn’t feel the same way.”

“Dean,” Cas says and Dean can hear that old familiar rage hardening his friend’s tone. “I would remember if you had tried to kiss me so what the hell are you talking about?”

There’s a trip in Dean’s heart just thinking about that night all those years ago. “It was when I got super sick during finals week.”

Cas frowns at him like he’s crazy until understanding softens his features. “Junior year?”

“Yeah and you tried to poison me with all your teas.” Cas scowls. “I tried to kiss you and you freaked out so hard you knocked the cup of the floor.”

He watches all the pieces clicking together in Cas’s mind. “Wait, that was — I thought you were high on your flu meds!” he shouts. “You were so out of it all week, I-I thought you must have been hallucinating or something.”

“Nope.”

Cas looks at him with such profound regret. “Dean, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

Dean shrugs it off. “It’s no big deal.”

Cas’s hand comes to cup his jaw and his blue eyes are sincere and intense as they gaze into Dean’s. “Yes it is. I’m sorry that you spent all this time thinking I didn’t want you. I’m sorry that we both wasted time we could have spent together.”

“Well, we were still kinda together,” Dean muses. “Just… missing some of the fun stuff.” He arches his brows suggestively and Cas’s lips quirk. 

“I think we can start remedying that right now,” he says when he straightens up and his hands run down Dean’s back.

Dean tingles under Cas’s touch and he grins. “Damn right,” he purrs, eyes dropping to Cas’s lips and Cas starts to lean in. “But first…” Dean reaches behind Cas and pulls the abandoned mistletoe from the counter. “I want to look at this!”

Cas groans. “Really? We could be having sex and you want to study the plant?”

“I want to know about this lust spell,” Dean says as he pulls at the ribbon. “What are the little drawings?”

Cas crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the counter, full on pouting. “They’re runes to represent certain aspects of a relationship.”

“Yeah?” Dean echoes, studying each little sign. “What does this one mean?”

Cas leans in to peer at the ribbon. “Sex.”

Dean smirks. “Makes sense for a lust spell. And this one?”

“Serenity,” Cas responds. “I like the peacefulness of our friendship and I don’t want that to change even if the nature of our relationship does.”

He almost looks embarrassed as he says it and it makes Dean smile. He leans over and kisses Cas’s cheek. “Me too. So what’s this one? There’s two.”

“Love,” Cas whispers.

Dean’s heart skips a beat. “Okay and what about this last one? You have three of them?”

Cas turns a vivid red. “That’s the sign for thrusting.”

Wildfire rushes through Dean and he’s hard in an instant, mouth gone dry. “Thrusting,” he echoes and his voice is low, deep in his chest.

All Cas does is nod in answer, his blush so beautiful. 

“And you put three on here?” Dean asks, taking a step forward. “Why’s that, Cas?” The mistletoe drops to the floor, long forgotten as Cas’s bright eyes widen with every step Dean takes toward him. “Is it because you want me to thrust my cock inside your tight hole? You want to feel me thrusting inside of you until you come?”

He boxes Cas in against the counter, arms on either side of him, and Cas’s breath hitches. He looks up at Dean, cheeks red and lips parted. “Please,” he whispers.

Dean doesn’t waste another second, hands pulling Cas against him and pushing their lips together. It feels just as amazing as he remembers, Cas lips are cool and soft, maybe just a little on the chapped side, but they’re also broad and eager and Dean loves every bit of them.

Dean lets his hands wander, running down Cas’s arms until they’re on his waist, teasing the sharp hip bones Dean has only caught glimpses of over the years, and traveling back to cup Cas’s ass. Cas moans into his mouth when Dean squeezes and ruts against Dean’s hip until Dean is vibrating with need.

It’s with great strength that he pulls his lips away from Cas’s, nipping when Cas tries to follow him. “I think we should take this to the bedroom,” he whispers.

Cas whines and my god if that isn’t a sound Dean wants to hear a thousand times over. “Why?”

“Because the first time I make love to you will not be in a dirty kitchen.”

He watches entranced as Cas’s eyes dilate at his words. And then Cas’s hand is in his and he’s being pulled down the hall to his own bedroom.

Cas throws himself onto the mattress and he hums the happiest sound when Dean stretches out of top of him. 

For some time, they continue kissing and touching, happy to just familiarize themselves with the bodies they’ve longed after for so long. But slowly, clothing is lost, distributed across the floor piece by piece, and new territory is bared for careful exploration and worship. 

They separate for a brief moment while Dean fishes in his nightstand for lube and Cas kisses him like he’s been gone for years.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” Dean tells him softly.

Cas kisses each corner of Dean’s mouth. “I know,” he says. “But this still doesn’t feel real. I’m afraid I’m going to wake up any second now and realize it’s all just been a dream.”

Dean brushes Cas’s hair aside and presses soft kisses to his temples. “I feel that too,” he admits. “But I don’t think even dreams can be this perfect.”

He takes all the time in the world opening Cas up first with his tongue and then with his fingers. He catalogues every whine, moan, whimper, and keen Cas makes and files it away for future use. He learns things about Cas’s body that he’s always wanted to know, like how much Cas loves inner thigh kisses, the taste and weight of Cas’s cock on his tongue, and how Cas’s entire body will shake when Dean licks into his hole and that he has the sexiest way of moving his hips and fucking himself on Dean’s tongue with complete abandon. 

By the time Cas is open Dean feels like he’s been on edge for hours. He takes a moment to calm himself, kissing up Cas’s throat and tasting the salt on his skin. Cas arches up into him, whining for something. “Dean, please.”

“If we don’t wait,” Dean chuckles, “the finale isn’t going to last very long.”

Cas puts his hands on either side of Dean’s face and makes him look into deep blue eyes. “I don’t want to wait for you anymore.”

Sometimes there are words you spend your whole life aching to hear. You don’t know which ones or in what divine order but they rest in your body like a tattoo along your ribs waiting to be ignited like a spell that finally brings you to life.

_I don’t want to wait for you anymore are those words for Dean._

He kisses Cas deep and careful, like an unspoken thank you, and brings their bodies together at last. Cas gasps into his mouth, fingers and ankles digging into his back to bring Dean as close as physically possible, like he can absorb Dean through every point of contact. 

Their bodies move together in sync, a harmony of limbs and beautiful sounds working toward the same precipice. When they near, Cas reaches for Dean’s hands, fingers lacing together. The way he says Dean’s name is like an enchantment, so soft and careful but full of meaning and intention. Dean answers in kind and they shake apart together, pressed chest to chest, heart to heart. 

Later, when their bodies are cool and their breathing is even, Dean stares at their interlocked fingers. He marvels at how long he’s dreamed of this, something as simple as holding Cas’s hand. And now he’s doing it and Cas’s hands are large and soft and warm and he feels like he could spend an eternity studying them, content as a cat in a pool of sunshine. 

He pulls their hands to his lips and kisses Cas’s long fingers. 

“I love you,” he says. Because he finally can. 

He feels Cas’s chest expand and fill right next to his. The hand tracing on Dean’s shoulder squeezes. A large, soft, warm hand. 

“I love you, too.”


	7. Epilogue

* _Christmas Eve_ *

Cas stands in the front door greeting guests as they trickle inside. He can’t help his smile as he watches them take in the Novak house in a whole new light — quite literally as Cas has the house lit from top to bottom and there are enough snowmen and reindeer in the front yard to make one think Santa may have relocated his workshop to a suburban street in the middle of Kansas. 

He takes particular joy in seeing the confusion on some of his cousins’ faces and the looks they slide him that clearly let him know he’s damn blessed Grandmother has passed on. He’s well aware. 

And of course there was the sublime joy of seeing Anna and Gabe in the gaudy Christmas sweaters and reindeer antlers that had been added to the deal once he’d learned that spell they’d given him wasn’t so much a spell as much as a dirty trick to “get two idiots to pull their heads out of their asses” as Gabe so kindly put it. 

Cas had been ready to unleash an unholy rage on his young siblings. But as Dean stood there holding his hand, he figured the outcome had been good enough to let it go. For the time being.

As if summoned by good thoughts, Dean appears and wraps his arms around Cas, kissing his neck. Cas leans into it like it’s his instinct. 

“Everything going well inside?” he asks, pulling away for a second to shake hands with two more guests.

When he moves back beside Dean, their hands interlock. They do that a lot. 

“Just the way you want it,” Dean promises with a brush across his knuckles. “You know,” Dean says, “with everything that’s happened, I never had time to go get you a better present.”

“A better present?” Cas asks with raises brows.

“Yeah, I mean, I got you a good gift for a friend, but not a good gift for, ya know-” He raises their hands as if to explain, his face reddening. 

Cas smiles because he understands. This change has felt so natural but at the same time a huge adjustment. It’s still a lot to get used to that he can touch Dean like this, look at Dean in certain ways, say things he’s had to bite his tongue on for years. 

Behind Dean there’s a shout and they both look over to see Gabe trying to dodge an impromptu performance of “All I Want for Christmas.”

Cas laughs and throws an arm around Dean, drawing him into a kiss. “I think I got everything I could have possibly wanted for Christmas.”

He feels Dean smile against his cheek.

“But if you really want to give me a gift,” he says, pulling away and looking at Dean from beneath his lashes, “I have an idea of something you can give me.”

It takes Dean a minute to catch his drift and when he does his green eyes darken even as his jaw drops. “Who knew you had such a dirty mind this entire time.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Checking to make sure there’s no one approaching, Cas closes the door and starts to lead Dean toward the party.

“So when are all these people leaving?” Dean whispers. “Think you could just move them out with your powers?”

Cas laughs. “Be patient.”

Before he can enter the living room, Dean stops him, hands on his waist and spinning him around. He smiles and waits for Dean to say anything but the green-eyed man just watches him.

“Dean?”

Dean smiles then, a little soft almost secretive thing. “I just wanted to say-”

“Mistletoe, mistletoe, mistletoe!” someone shouts.

Dean and Cas look around and find the party-goers staring and pointing at them. They look up and, sure enough, find mistletoe hanging over their heads.

“Think we can trust this one?”

Cas scoffs but feels his cheeks heating. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Not by a long shot.”

Cas throws his arms around Dean and pulls him close, noses bumping. 

“Merry Christmas, Cas,” Dean whispers.

Cas hums, “Merry Christmas, Dean,” and their lips meet. And it’s soft and easy, natural as breathing and wonderful as only magic could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all, folks! I Hope you have enjoyed. A last thank you to Hope for being a great friend and inspiration! You can find her Tumblr [here](https://casandtheimpala.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://caslikescoffeeandfreckles.tumblr.com/).


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